Page 26 of Daddy's Best Friend

“Come home, dear. I’ll send a car for you. Okay?”

“No, Mom. I will just Uber. I have some cash still. Just, Mom…?”

“I know, Ella. I won’t tell your father. I’ll let you talk to him. Maybe just enjoy dinner tonight and we’ll talk tomorrow. Okay? It sounds like you’ve been through enough today.”

Somehow, Mom just knew what I needed. “I’ll be home soon. I love you.”

“I love you too, Ella.”

Mom hung up, and I locked my phone and stared at it, willing it to call me an Uber. I didn't want to leave Alan. I wanted to move into his bedroom, be his partner, and have a future. But the more I thought about things, the worse I felt. He had made it abundantly clear that me getting pregnant was a horrible idea. I hadn’t planned this at all, and it wasn’t what I wanted for my future, and it changed everything. But I would never be like Vicki Shwepe.

I opened the phone and used the Uber app to summon a car, then pulled a bag out and shoved as much of my shit into it as I could. I knew I couldn’t get everything, and at some point, I’d have to face the music. Just not today. Today I took as much as I could carry, along with my dignity, and snuck down the side of the house, past the security cameras which I hoped Alan was not watching.

I stood in the shadows by the south end of the house waiting. Trevor came home, and I hugged the side of the house so he wouldn’t see me. He had a girl with him. I wanted to burst out of the darkness and warn her to steer clear of him, but it would ruin my escape attempt, so I stayed hidden.

When the Uber pulled up, I dashed out and hopped in quickly, urging the woman to drive as quickly as possible. For the first time in months, I couldn’t wait to get home. Even if it meant confessing my worst sins to an angry father, it meant I would be where I was loved.

I couldn’t say that much about this place.

20

ALAN

Iwatched for Ella to return last night, but she never did, at least not while I was awake. There was a short period where I had a shower, but I’d gone down to knock on the door again, this time entering to look through the guest house and make sure she was okay. I thought maybe she was sleeping—actually ill or something. Turned out she wasn’t home at all.

The sun peeked over the horizon, blinding me through the open drapes. I’d left them that way so I could see the street from where I sat in bed reading. I yawned and checked my phone. It was just after seven, and I felt like rolling over to go back to sleep but thought better of it. If Ella really was sick, she might need something from the drug store.

I lazed around, scrolling my phone for a minute, checking work emails. There were no notifications from her, which wasn’t entirely abnormal, though sometimes she did send a goodnight message long after I fell asleep. This morning, I decided to text her, so I sent a quick “good morning, I hope you’re feeling better,” and headed for the shower. I was a bit worked up, but thinking about her only made me feel guilty, not in the mood.

I thought of how much of a jerk I’d have been for cutting her off in haste, simply because I’d had a bad discussion with her father. Especially on a night when I knew she’d gone home from work ill. Ella was kind and sweet; she didn’t deserve that. I didn’t have the heart to hurt her the way her ex-boyfriend had either, so I had to come up with some better reason. Which meant I needed to think about things.

After my shower, I dressed, thankful for Heather and the way she got my dry cleaning for me. I heard noise from the kitchen winding its way upstairs and wondered if Trevor was making breakfast, or if Ella was awake this early too. By the time I finished dressing and got down there, there was an empty bowl on the counter, droplets of milk next to it. Ella didn’t eat cereal; it had to have been Trevor.

I sighed, contemplating heading out to the guest house to check on her. Trevor walked in the room holding his phone in front of his face and startled when I called his name.

“Trevor.”

“Woah, Dad. Easy… It’s really late.” He rubbed his eyes and winced at the light overhead.

“It’s past seven a.m.” I shook my head in confusion.

“That’s late when you stay up all night.” He chuckled and picked up his empty bowl, leaving the milk mess on the countertop.

I headed for the coffee maker, popping a pod of dark roast into it and closing the lid. While it brewed, I selected a mug and put it beneath the spout, then turned to look at my son, who now that I noticed it, looked more zombie-like than normal.

“You were awake all night?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, couldn’t sleep.”

“Here? At home?” At almost 24 years old, he often stayed out late or just didn’t come home. But if he had been home, there is a chance he’d seen what time Ella had come home.

“Yeah, where else would I be? I had Dana over last night.” He set the bowl in the sink and wiped his hand on a towel draped over the counter. “Why?”

“Well, did you see what time Ella came in? Like what time did she get home?” The coffee maker hissed, and I turned to collect the mug full of hot liquid. It smelled euphoric, but it didn’t change my mood. Ella never stayed out without communicating. She always communicated where she was and what she was doing.

“Nah… She told us a few days ago she had dinner plans with her family. Right?” Trevor shoved his phone in his pocket and raked a hand through his messy hair. “I’m going to lay down. Dana might come back tonight.” He waggled his eyebrows, and I got the feeling that his fascination with Dana had replaced the urge to pressure Ella into some sort of forced arrangement. I breathed a bit easier on that front but was still irritated with Ella.

“Thanks… sleep well.”

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